


Escape

by herbailiwick



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dancing, Gay Bar, M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 02:28:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1572758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herbailiwick/pseuds/herbailiwick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Bobby need to hide from someone, so they duck into a gay bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Escape

"Nice," Bobby said as they looked around, and Sam felt his face heat. 

Gay bar. Alright. Cool. 

Okay.

"Well," Bobby decided. "Drinks, I guess." And he nudged Sam toward the bar.

Sam ignored the eyes on Bobby, who was wearing a vest and a baseball cap when no one else really seemed to be. 

It's wasn't like they were there for the atmosphere. Or for the drinks. It was unplanned, and stupid, but they couldn't do anything about that just yet. They needed to lose Janice, an ex-buddy of Bobby's who really wanted Sam's head on a pike for being "an Apocalypse-starting psychic freak", more than they needed to sit in a bar where they didn't look so...sad.

He was just about to join quick-footed Bobby at the bar when a guy stopped him by taking a step in front of him. He blinked, unused to that sort of tactic from civilians. Rich. Real watch, impressive, nervous hands, lines around his eyes. Younger than he looked at first glance. Sam forced a smile as he realized he was being hit on. Shaking his head, he dodged the guy and made for Bobby.

When the guy next to Bobby at the bar spotted Sam, he stared with wide brown eyes, and Sam squirmed heavily, wondering just how many more admirers he was going to have to put up with while hiding out for his very life. 

"Can I buy you a drink?" the man asked, voice like velvet. 

"Uh." It wasn't that he hadn't been with a guy before. More than one, in fact. He usually needed to know the guy first, though. He felt the same about women most of the time, although, lately...well. "No. Um. No, thank you," he managed. 

The guy gave him one last quick glance of appreciation before turning away. Not a creepy glance of appreciation either, a kind of flattering one.

Sam started on the beer from Bobby as he settled into brown-eyed guy's chair. He was about to mention Janice when he found himself having to reject a heart-felt offer to join _another_ guy and his friends. They seemed nice and all from the looks of them, but Sam shook his head and declined.

"No, thank you. But, uh...yeah, see ya," he said to the man's attractive back.

Bobby chuckled, smirking. It was irritating. "You don't get this much interest in regular bars, do you?"

"Bobby, you know, Dean doesn't need to know about this," Sam said with an odd sort of gravity.

"Relax. That ain't what I meant." Amused, Bobby straightened his vest out, taking a good look at Sam. "Maybe you should go for it."

"Ugh. Bobby," Sam tried to laugh it off, but Bobby was smirking at him.

"They like you. What can I say? Don't look now, but you got a couple more admirers over there." Bobby indicated them with a nod.

"It's probably how we're dressed," Sam snarked, glancing at his jacket. "Hunter chic. Really exotic stuff."

"Sure. Whatever you say." He was still so proud of himself, Bobby, like he knew something about Sam cause, well, maybe he did, and Sam felt a little kick of indignation in him, curving his mouth down til he was actively pouting.

"I'm not...I need to know a guy," Sam said in a hushed tone. "Otherwise?" He shook his head.

"I know what you mean," Bobby agreed, which was...interesting. Well, not, really, just...worth noting. Not Sam's business, not his concern, just his friend's sexuality. 

"That last one was kind of cute," Bobby added into the lip of the bottle.

"Aww."

"Don't," Bobby chuckled.

"We got time to waste," Sam grinned.

"Oh, it's not me he was askin', loverboy."

Sam turned to look over his shoulder at the guy again. Tall, skin dark with subtle freckles and a reddish glow. An ass that...that Sam shouldn't have been looking at. Sam glanced back at Bobby and shrugged. "No one wants to take me home, though, you know? Not anymore."

"Don't sell yourself short, Sam."

Sam reached over for the bowl of pretzels. "Being a little shorter might be nice, actually. And looking completely different. You know, so rogue hunters won't put a hit out on me. 'Magine if I'd been on a date with you and we had to duck in here." He glanced at Bobby, then back at the guy with the freckles. He shoved some more pretzels in his mouth to shut himself up.

"Oh to be young and handsome and still have so much to complain about." Bobby rolled his eyes.

The door swung open, and Bobby glanced over, resting a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Don't look. Don't draw attention. I'll cover her, if need be. You hide."

"What?!"

"Go pretend you can dance," Bobby hissed. "Go!" he insisted when Sam just stared.

Sam stumbled from his seat, shuffling over to the cute guy with the freckles, tapping him gently on the shoulder. Sam's outfit did get a couple assessing looks, but none that felt too judgy. 

"Hi. My name's Sam," he offered hopefully. "I was just...thinking about how...I can't dance."

"Uh. Levon." He turned to look at Sam, a brow raised. 

"I got some alcohol in me now. Wanna show me?" Sam asked, voice soft.

Levon looked at his group of friends, who were apparently more than okay with the idea. In fact, a girl introduced to Sam as Tarini wanted dibs on the first dance with him.

Moving toward the dance floor, away from the quieter bar area and toward the music with a freewheeling power unlike anything Sam usually listened to, they disappeared into the crowd of moving bodies.

Sam was exactly as awkward as he thought he'd be, all limbs and fear of getting too close, but the urge to not be found out and taken down by Janice had him focused and energized. He soon started to relax into the rhythm.

"Damn," Tarini said in appreciation, and he tugged her closer with appropriate pauses to make sure she was good with the idea.

It wasn't long before Sam pulled off his button down, leaving his tight-at-the-chest and loose-at-the-waist gray V-neck behind. Levon eased himself behind Sam, which made Sam shiver and offer a nod, turning to glance at him best as he could. "Hi," he murmured.

The adrenaline of hiding, of trying something so new, of the closeness of not one but two bodies, of other bodies in public, it was heady. Like with sex, he let his untamed side crawl slick and greedy to the surface of his being, since it had been properly coaxed. The faces were blurring, the music proving Sam encourageable, incorrigible, and he could feel the drive and care-freedom melding, warring, until he didn't even spot the familiar baseball cap, though he usually would have.

The beautiful man and woman on either side of him had him rocking a few more times. "Hey, Sam," Lavon said, squeezing Sam's hip, which made him groan. "He's watching."

Sam looked up, blinked sex and heat from his eyes. He flushed, hips stuttering, giving a grounding swallow before his lips parted and he held the man's gaze. Bobby was looking at him, was watching. The guy who'd known him since he was, what, in preschool? Dean, he'd probably expect this raw hedonism from, but Sam? He'd  _told_  Sam to do it...but, all the same, he hadn't told him to...enjoy it.

Was he supposed to be embarrassed...or...flattered? 

Bobby stood, expression hard to read. He wasn't saying they needed to go. He wasn't saying they were free from the threat, though Sam guessed they were, otherwise he wouldn't let himself admire Sam, would he? Cause that's what he was doing, right? It wasn't about Tarini, or about Levon. It was about Sam, wasn't it?

Levon tried to tell Sam something else, and Sam groaned, arching, blinking his eyes as he tried to figure out what the man was trying to communicate. Finally, Levon just nudged Sam, nodding to Bobby. 

Sam offered Bobby a shrug. Coming back to himself, Bobby stepped closer in reply, pushing through a slew of traditionally hotter bodies to reach Sam. To Sam, he was moving as if in slow-motion.

Sam was soon cooler, exposed.  "We're okay," Bobby said, raising his voice. Off to Sam's side, he vaguely registered Tarini and Levon dancing together. "I'll split," the hunter added. "You give call if you need a ride, okay?"

And Bobby started to turn away. Swaying bodies were going to come between Sam and Bobby, which wasn't acceptable even as a thought. Sam reached out and grasped his arm lightly. Bobby turned.

Sam had too many questions for a noisy dance floor's capacity. First and foremost, he wanted to hear Bobby confirm he was watching Sam, that he thought he looked like...someone with a nice body and some okay coordination. That he maybe looked worth loving, even with his horrible, dangerous flaws.

Sam bit his lip, but he didn't move his hand. He tightened its grip just slightly, needing that confirmation. "Stay?" he called out above the noise. 

Bobby narrowed his eyes and Sam wondered if he was going to storm off. He was gonna do something anyway, building up to something intense. Sam almost didn't want to know what it was. 

And then Bobby stepped forward, his hand on Sam's shoulder until he slid it down to the small of Sam's back. Sam's eyes showed awe, appreciation, like they always did when Bobby amazed him.

"Okay," Bobby muttered, looking up at Sam, hopeful, like he'd know what to do. 

Sam's hands hesitated for a moment, holding nothing, his whole form holding back. He flushed hot at the idea of his hands on Bobby's hips, at the small of his back, skimming layers of outdated clothing. He looked around for a moment in self-consciousness, which broke some of the magic, Bobby looking around too. 

Sam kissed him in a rush of quick decision, their noses knocking, alcohol and the weight of a life-long relationship present in their mouths, Sam's hands rising to touch, to scratch at that distinctive beard, an iconic part of Bobby, thrilling to feel up close.

Sam nipped at Bobby's lip as they pulled apart, both of them a little shocked, Sam's dancing friends looking impressed.

Sam took Bobby's hand, for once forgetting his own was large and awkward, and they made their way out of the bar as quickly as they could, never once letting go.

"If you could've seen you, you woulda wondered if you were possessed," Bobby murmured. Somehow, from him, the guy Sam could tell anything to, it was hot, so hot, and not wrong at all.

"You liked it," he said, voice shaky with novelty and the unknown. 

"Oh, hell yeah," Bobby agreed. 

Sam bit his lip, imagining what else he could even do to get Bobby to look at him that way again. He'd never seen Bobby say anything was hot before; Bobby wasn't like Dean. But Sam still felt the heat of that intense gaze as he gave Bobby's hand another squeeze. 

He'd touch other parts of Bobby soon enough. As many as Bobby wanted. 


End file.
